Revenge is Best
by LRCrowley
Summary: Someone with a strange vendetta against "FBI agents" takes action to get his revenge... In short Reid kidnapped on the anniversary of the Hankel abduction and the team struggle to help their endangered friend once more. Implied Prentiss/Hotch ship
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Spencer Reid shifted in his seat. It had been 2 hours 42 minutes since the rest of his team had left but Reid had been determined to stay put until he finished the paper work from their latest case; a series of seemingly random murders that they had solved quickly and efficiently. However _someone _had to write up the reports. Reid normally would have gone along with his team for celebratory drinks but he found himself growing increasingly more withdrawn as they approached the anniversary of his abduction at the hands of Tobias Hankel. It had been 5 years yet Reid still felt a tug of guilt in his heart when he thought about Tobias' lifeless eyes staring up at the night sky. He just wanted to be alone now.

Reid slowly stood up and made his way to the coffee machine in the small kitchen of the BAU offices. There was a half-filled pot on the counter that he did not remember making but he had been so detached lately he didn't trust his memory. Pouring himself a new cup Reid made his way back to his desk in the bullpen. Seeing the normally bustling bullpen ghostly quiet normally relaxed Reid, yet now he was struck by an overwhelming feeling of loneliness (or was it fear?) and he wished that he could see a familiar face.

As if waiting for such a wish, the caretaker shuffled into the room and quietly began sweeping around the many desks. Reid offered him a small smile and turned back to his papers, gulping coffee as he did. The only sound came from the gentle strokes of the caretaker's broom on the floor. He was a relatively new employee but he was so unassuming and quiet he fit right in without any fuss or attention. He was a tall and strongly-built man, yet he stood with a slight stoop and had a child-like demeanour that reminded Reid of Lenny from _Of Mice and Men._ His was a comforting presence in the bullpen.

As Reid downed the last of his coffee, he felt a strange drowsiness settle over his limbs. He put it down to exhaustion and realised it might be time to call it a day. It was only when he stood up to put on his jacket that he realised it wasn't tiredness; he had been drugged. Panic crawled under his skin and into his brain. He knew it had been the coffee but that was the extent of the reasoning he could manage. His brain felt foggy and unclear. The janitor appeared in his slightly spinning vision.

"Hey, excuse me, I need help," Reid called. However is speech came out slurred and unintelligible, as if his mouth was not receiving signals from his brain. However the janitor hear and walked over to Reid with real purpose.

In his fuzzy state Reid did not note how the janitor had dropped his stoop as he strode over. He did not register the dark glint in the man's eyes.

"I think I've been drugged…the coffee…" Reid tried to say, stumbling over to the janitor. His legs were so uncoordinated he tripped and fell to the floor, looking up at the other man and trying to convey the seriousness of his predicament.

"Drugged?" the janitor said softly, a slight smile apparent in his voice.

"I – can you call…the hospital?" Reid slurred, hands gripping the edge of Pretntiss' desk as he tried to pull himself up. The janitor lightly gripped under Reid's shoulders and hauled him to his feet. He helped him over to his desk and sat him down, smiling contentedly down at the drugged agent.

"Do you feel uncoordinated? A little fuzzy? Eye sight a bit off?" the janitor asked, seemingly concerned, yet there was a lift in his voice from the slight smile on his lips.

Reid looked at him, confused. There were four janitors swimming in front of his eyes and he couldn't seem to get his mind into the here and now; his instincts told him that there was something wrong here, deeply wrong, but his judgment was completely shrouded by whatever drug was in his system.

"I feel…sick," Reid whimpered quietly, head lolling forward onto his chest. The janitor lightly took Reid's face in his hand and lifted it so he could look into the unfocused eyes of the doctor.

"Yup…definitely the effects of rohypnol. Did you know that rohypnol is absorbed _incredibly_ quickly into the bloodstream, especially when it is taken with…Oh let's say, coffee," he looked meaningfully and menacingly into Reid's eyes, noting the way that his previously glazed look was replaced quickly with acute fear.

"You…you…" Reid started to panic, reaching for his gun which he was sure he'd left on his desk.

"Yes, me. Your gun's not there, by the way. It's here," the janitor said, speaking with more purpose than Reid had ever heard, and holding up Reid's gun in a taunting manner. Reid reached up to reclaim his gun from this man, but the janitor held it just out of his reach, chuckling like a schoolboy teasing his friend. When he pulled a roll of duct tape from his back pocket, Reid started to panic. He concentrated hard in order to clear the fog that the rohypnol had cast in his mind, but he could not think of a way out of this. His instincts took the place of logic and he yelled out to attract someone's, anyone's, attention. Quick as a flash the janitor shoved a piece of scratchy material into Reid's open mouth, causing him to wretch and choke and also stifling his calls.

"That was unwise, Dr Reid. I have a gun you know," the janitor said, mildly irritated, as he pushed Reid onto the floor. He fell with a painful thud on his knees but was unable to even contemplate righting himself as the janitor grabbed both of his thin wrists and yanked them behind his back. Reid felt the duct tape being wound tightly around his wrists, round and round. At least 10 layers of tape; he was completely incapacitated. This apparently wasn't enough for the janitor though and he proceeded to wind the tape around Reid's torso, just below his elbows so he could barely move at all. He sat struggling slightly in vain as the janitor stood up, dusting his hands off, admiring his handiwork. Reid managed to spit the rag from his mouth, and coughing slightly, he fixed the janitor with an analytical stare.

"Why – why are you _doing_ this?" his voice filled with genuine concern and hurt. He couldn't understand why this seemingly innocuous man had lashed out in such a drastic fashion. If he hadn't been under the influence of a powerful sedative he would have been profiling this guy at lightning speed, his eidetic memory fishing through everything he knew about this man.

"All in good time, young man… Shall we go? I think we should," the janitor said as if he was about to go to the cinema with a friend, "and no yelling or calling for help now, or I will blow the brains out of anyone we see, alright?"

Reid shivered at the psychotic characteristics of this man as he was pulled to his feet by him. The janitor slung Reid's own jacket over his shoulders, partially covering his bonds. Unstable and weak as he was on his feet, Reid suspected he would just look as if he had overdone it on the beers and was being guided along by his friend if anyone saw them. This was probably the point. The janitor kept one hand in his pocket gripping Reid's gun and the other arm was wrapped tightly around his shoulders, pinning him to his side as he walked the both of them out of the BAU bullpen.

The odd pair didn't bump into a soul as they left the building through the rear exit, which wasn't a shock at this time of the night. What Reid wouldn't have given to see Morgan's smirking face, or Hotch's stern glare, or Rossi's kindly smile walking down the corridor towards him…

They reached the fire exit of the building and emerged into the dark alleyway where a car was parked conveniently close. All the seats in the back had been folded down to create a flat surface and Reid quickly noticed the lack of handles on the inside of the back doors, creating a mobile prison.

The janitor knelt down by Reid's feet, causing Reid to briefly contemplate kicking his captor however he knew that he would probably be too weak to cause any real damage and he would probably just anger this man. So he stood compliantly as the janitor wound yet more tight layers of tape around his ankles. He stood up and pulled a length of duct tape taught, eyes never leaving Reid's pale face. Reid knew what this was for and he jerked his head back and pleaded with the man.

"No, no, no, no, please, don't, no," he repeated over and over again, voice weak and trembling but fear palpable. He had always been claustrophobic and the thought of something covering his mouth, sealing his breath, made him feel nauseous. However there was nothing he could do as the janitor pressed him against the car and smoothed the tape over his lips, winding the ape around his head so tightly Reid thought he would suffocate right there. The janitor broke of the tape and, almost kindly, patted Reid on his gagged mouth, as if he had bandaged a wound or sealed a band aid over a small cut. Reid continued to voice his meek protests, though they were muffled into small whimpers.

The janitor unlocked the door to the back of the car and pushed Reid into it with lazy ease. Reid landed on his back and had no choice but to let the janitor push his feet into the car and turn him slightly so he was lying on his side and facing the driver's seat. The janitor's eyes widened as he remembered something and he pulled a thick strip of black material from a bag in the car. Reid shook his head desperately and protested into the tape on his mouth but there was nothing he could do to stop the large man blindfolding him, plunging him into darkness, leaving him completely helpless in the hands of this stranger.

"Perfect!" the janitor said proudly, and Reid heard him clap his hands together like a pleased parent. Reid just lay there as he heard the door being shut, and the janitor getting into the front seat, keys jangling and engine starting up. The rumble of the car was almost soothing and Reid finally succumbed to the drugs clouding his mind and passed out in his captive's car.

Chapter 2

The unmistakeable swagger of Derek Morgan. Emily Prentiss laughed to herself as her confident co-worker strutted into the office, broad shoulders held proudly under the tight-fitting sweater he wore.

"Morning, all," he said with a satisfied look on his face

"Let me guess, an underwear model?" Prentiss asked feigning a look of disapproval, "or was she an aspiring actress, looking for her big break?"

"No idea what you're talking about," Morgan replied, not missing a beat.

"Oh come on, you always come in with that cocky look after you scored with a…hottie," Prentiss chuckled, snapping out of her stern pretence.

"Can't a guy just be in a good mood after a great night's sleep?" Morgan asked. This time it was his turn to joke, feigning a look of hurt, "and please, never say 'hottie', ever again…'

The friends laughed and looked down at the piles of paperwork on their respective desks.

"Huh, looks like Reid got a good start on the paper work for our last case…but boy genius didn't finish…" Morgan said scanning the records in front of him.

"He's been a little off lately, he probably just wanted to get home I guess, relax a bit," Prentiss said. She was a compassionate soul and she understood the lasting effects Reid suffered from earlier trauma. She knew that he needed space, and the team mustn't crowd him with anything, even work.

As the pair began to go through their files (much to Morgan's chagrin) Hotch appeared from his office and stalked over to their desks in the bullpen.

"So who was she, Morgan?" he asked, his rare joke making Prentiss guffaw as a small smile tweaked his own mouth. Before Morgan shot back a retort, he looked around to Reid's desk, "Have either of you seen Reid today?"

"No, he's not in yet," Prentiss said, concern crossing her face, "What's up?"

Hotch sighed, "Strauss wants him to do a psych eval.,"

"What?" Morgan exclaimed angrily, "He's fine, why would he need some shrink –"

"Hankel," Prentiss and Hotch said at the same time.

"It's around this year he tends to get a little introverted... He obviously still suffers mild PTSD, understandably," Hotch said, his face set in its usual serious countenance, "I just wanted to talk to him before Strauss gets her claws in him."

"Ah man," was all Morgan managed as he thought about his younger colleague and what he had gone through 5 years earlier. Suddenly a pysch eval. didn't seem so crazy.

"Yeah, well, send him into my office when he gets here," Hotch said, sharing a meaningful glance at Prentiss before he returned to his office. Prentiss blushed when she saw Morgan smirking at her.

"Only a matter of time…" he murmured teasingly.

"What?" Prentiss asked indignantly, her blush deepening.

Morgan merely chuckled knowingly and turned back to his desktop. Prentiss huffed and looked down at her own work, letting her gaze linger on the door of Hotch's office before she submerged herself in paperwork and records.

Chapter 3

Reid woke up with a head full of jumbled memories and a strange haze over his thoughts. He couldn't for the life of him remember the night before. The team had finished a case in Michigan and they had flown back to Quantico and then…nothing. It was like someone had taken a pair of scissors and snipped a great chunk out of Reid's memories, leaving only the frayed edges of broken recollections.

As his senses slowly awakened, his fuzzy uncertainty was replaced by a very real, very serious sense of danger. He was tied up, he felt that now. His arms, torso, ankles were bound up in restricting tape. Vague snippets came back to him; a man winding the tape around his limbs...But there was nothing clear. His mouth was sealed shut with more tape that he strained against, grunting with the effort but not managing to make it budge. He started to hyperventilate. Trapped. Alone. He felt the ground beneath him. Carpet. He was on his side. He could see living room furniture. He was next to a couch. A pair of heavy boots. Boots attached to legs. Legs wearing navy overalls. A janitor's uniform.

Realisation consumed Reid and as he brought his fearful eyes up to the man's face and instantly recognised the janitor from the BAU. His hazy memories of being abducted by this man started to feel real and precise instead of dim and dream-like. He spoke into the tape on his mouth, silenced questions said with more than a hint of anxiety. He was still breathing too fast through his nose; he was going to make himself faint if he didn't calm down.

"Morning, sleepy head," the janitor (_the unsub!_) said happily, "You've been asleep for hours. I've been watching you. You talk in your sleep; who's 'Tobias'?"

Reid cried out, unable to contain his fear and he tried to sit himself up, make himself less vulnerable. He didn't know if he could deal with being kidnapped again…

"Hey, calm down!" the unsub said, gently resting a boot on Reid's shoulder and pinning him to the ground. It wasn't painful but there was definitely enough pressure to hold the smaller man in place, "I don't know what's gotten into you, buddy. Oh, man, that's so rude of me! My name is Peter! Peter Douglas, by the way."

Douglas laughed to himself, as if forgetting to tell his hostage his name was a serious faux pas. He had a terrified federal agent tied up at his feet and he was chuckling over not introducing himself earlier. If Reid wasn't almost having a panic attack he might have deuced that this made his attacker seriously delusional and detached from reality. But he couldn't profile when he was in this state and he only panicked more.

"You must be hungry, huh?" Douglas asked, his head tilting to the side slightly, completely failing to recognise the signs of terror Reid was displaying, "Come on, then."

Without warning, he bent down and grabbed Reid by his short, tousled hair and started to drag him from the room. Reid screamed in pain but Douglas took no notice of the muffled cries and continued to yank Reid along by the hair until they reached the kitchen where he hauled Reid into one of the wooden chairs at the table. By now the frail agent was crying in pain, his eyes squeezed shut and his brows knotted together as he winced. Douglas smoothed down his hair, causing Reid to flinch. He seemed completely unaware of the pain he had caused this man as he fetched bowls and cereal, whistling to himself. Reid slumped forward in his seat, moaning in agony and desperation. He could feel a headache blossoming behind his eyes and in his temples, the pressure building as pain in his skull. He kept his eyes shut tight to try and protect his fragile mind.

"Ok, so we've got Fruit Loops? Or Lucky Charms? No? Oatmeal? Really I can do anything…hello?" He gazed expectantly at Reid and gave his shoulder a little shake, "Oh I see, gonna sulk until we get our way, are we? Alright then, just this once…"

And with that Douglas grabbed a pen knife that he carried in his pocket and began slicing through Reid's gag, grazing his ear as he did and harshly ripping the sticky tape from his skin. Reid gasped at the sudden pain but was greedily gulping in air soon enough. He was trembling as he began speaking.

"Please, I don't know why you're doing this, but you have to – please let me go. I won't tell anyone, I'll forget this ever happened, I've got money, just let me go. Please," he said quietly, quickly, desperately, tears spilling from his wide eyes.

"Do you want Fruit Loops or Lucky Charms?" Douglas asked coldly, his smile gone and a look of menace in his eyes. His friendly countenance had completely vanished as he glared at Reid.

"Did – did you drug me? Why are you doing this? Please, please let me go," Reid spoke quickly, his voice low and frightened like a wounded animal. His mind was so jumbled when it was normally full of clarity and precision and statistics; he just couldn't think straight at a time when his mind might be the only thing that could save him.

Douglas' hand squeezed into the boxes of cereal he held, puncturing the card as he shut his eyes and let out a laboured sigh.

"You really are all the same aren't you…you _fucking_…you just take and take – you do whatever you please, everyone else be damned. I was trying to help you, but you are all so _fucking_ selfish," he hissed, opening his eyes as he spoke the last word and fixing Reid with a sharp stare. There was a definite madness in his eyes now, a burning murderous hatred that scared Reid far more than his delusional friendliness.

Reid took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I'll have the L - Lucky Charms, please," he said quietly, voice shaking slightly. The profiling part of his mind told him that he needed to play into this unsubs fantasies; he needed to be whoever it was this guy was displacing his anger onto. It was the only way to keep the unsub calm.

Douglas slowly poured Lucky Charms into a bowl and set it down in front of Reid with deliberate concentration.

"I'm sorry if I got a little worked up. But you of all people know what it is like to be passionate about something. We are going to work through this. You can tell me why you did it, or your team can. I just want to know the truth," Douglas said sincerely, fixing Reid with an unblinking stare. He continued to stare right into Reid's eyes as if trying to gauge his reaction.

For a few seconds Reid could not think what to do, but once again, the profiler in his head took over. _Just keep him calm and happy_. Reid managed the best smile he could, though his eyes were still tearful.

"I know. We will sort this out," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. Douglas smiled back at him, apparently satisfied with this response and went about making a pot of coffee. Reid quickly replayed Douglas' words in his head; he had described Reid as "you people" and he had mentioned his team in relation to whatever it was that had angered him so much, whatever it was that he wanted retribution for…_ He has a vendetta against the FBI? Federal Agents, perhaps? _It made sense…Reid just knew he didn't want the team being dragged into this, unless they were there under their own terms, saving him! He looked down at the bowl of colourful, sugary cereal in front of him, aware that he could not feed himself. Hunger pangs clawed at his empty stomach.

"Peter?" Reid asked tentatively. Douglas had his back to Reid where he stood at the kitchen counter and Reid saw it visibly tense and regret instantly hit him like ice cold water.

"_Don't_. Don't call me that," he said, venom in his voice as he swivelled round to fix Reid with a burning glare once more, "_You_ will not call me that. It's _Mr. Douglas_ or _Sir_ to you, you little snake!"

The fact that the unsub could flit between such extreme emotions in such a short space of time frightened Reid a lot. He knew he had to try and keep this unstable man sweet, despite his acute fear of him, and fear for his own safety.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Douglas," he said in a steady voice, "I don't know why I did that."

"You don't know why you do anything, do you? Just take, take, take, right?" Douglas shot back, still angry, "What did you want anyway?"

"N – nothing. Just – Do you have a spoon I can use? I can't eat it like this," Reid didn't want to point out the obvious, offend the unsub by saying he couldn't eat with his hands tied behind him.

"I think we're done with breakfast. We have some things we need to sort out," Douglas said softly, but the underlying threat was tangible. Reid swallowed hard as Douglas moved behind him and grabbed him under the arms, dragging him once more from the room. He watched the bowl of cereal grow further away. Looks like he wouldn't be eating for a while…

He put up no resistance as he was dragged back into the living room he had woken up in, his bound feet unable to support himself anyway. He was set down next to a radiator as Douglas grabbed something from the coffee table; a roll of duct tape.

"No, no, you don't need to do that, I'll be quiet, I really will!" he almost shouted as Douglas tore of a large strip of tape and smoothed it over Reid's mouth, despite his squirming. Once more he found himself breathing heavily through his nose, not sure how to retain the last of his dignity when he was in this uncompromising position with this dangerous man. Douglas reached into his pocket and fished out what looked like a simple black leather dog collar. Not good.

"If you act like a dog, you will be treated like a dog," Douglas said, advancing on his captive with the collar held in front of him. Reid screamed at him to get away from him and leave him alone but the strong, determined man ignored his unintelligible cries and looped the collar round his hostage's thin neck. For a brief moment, Reid's air supply was cut off and he thought Douglas meant to choke him by tugging at the collar. However once he yielded to the pulling of the collar, he saw what Douglas was aiming to do; the collar was pulled towards the radiator, dragging Reid along with it, and buckled around one of the bars. Reid was held in an uncomfortable position on his knees with his neck strapped to the radiator on the wall. He couldn't move an inch and the collar meant he was forced to lean forward slightly, making him feel even more vulnerable and exposed; Douglas could do anything to him now and this thought sent nauseous waves of fear pulsing through him. If this man could abduct and imprison him, what else would he do? Douglas left the room, leaving Reid to wonder what he was going to bring back and what he was going to do to his young prisoner…

Douglas came back into the room carrying only a small video camera in one hand and a sharp carving knife in the other. Reid began struggling against his bonds as Douglas began walking towards him, raw emotions bubbling in his eyes and his weapons held high.

Chapter 4 

The BAU team began to pack up their bags and the clock reached that glorious time of the day when they were free. Everyone had the same contented look on their faces.

"Got any plans for tonight?" Morgan asked Prentiss as he slipped his jacket on.

"You asking me out? 'Cause I don't think I'm your type, and you are _definitely _not mine!" Prentiss shot back quickly.

"No, no way…I wouldn't want to get in trouble with Hotch anyway…" There it was again, that pointed insinuation that made Prentiss blush, though she wouldn't admit why. She ignored it and continued loading files into her bag that she would work on when she was at home, preferably with a large glass of wine in her hand. Hotch's sudden voice behind her made her jump and caused Morgan to burst out laughing.

"Reid never showed today," Hotch stated, to the point as always, "Neither of you have heard anything from him?"

"Nah, he was completely MIA all day," Morgan replied when he had stopped laughing.

"He probably just needed space," Prentiss suggested.

"He normally rings though. He's never not rung," Hotch said simply. Prentiss loved how he never wasted words; he said what he meant always. He was so reliable and safe, yet strong…

"Uhh guys?" Garcia's voice broke Prentiss' train of thought and brought her back to the real world, "There's some weird shifty goings-on over in my temple of excellence and I don't really know what I'm doing, which is weird because I always know what I'm doing so when I don't know what I'm doing it can only mean that there must be some bizarro shift in the cosmos that turns brilliant people slightly less brilliant –"

"Baby girl, slow down," Morgan interrupted the blond technology pixie's rant, "What's the problem?"

"You'd better just follow me, Abs. And you, Fringe and Eyebrows," Garcia spun on her heels and scampered back to her room.

"I guess 'Fringe' and 'Eyebrows' means us?" Hotch said to Prentiss, managing an almost smile once more.

"Well, you're definitely not 'Abs', I'm Abs. Right, Fringe?" Morgan pushed past the pair to Garcia's tech office. Hotch and Prentiss followed, both laughing now at their co-workers.

When the three of them were inside Garcia's office the mood turned very serious. There was an email on Garcia's screen that she had enlarged on all the screens in the office.

_Dear FBI agent,_

_Make sure your whole FBI team is available at 6.15 this evening_

_I have something to show you_

_Be there and make sure they are all here too_

_We can sort this out, if you cooperate _

"Weird, right?" Garcia said, obviously disconcerted by the mysterious message. Hotch glanced at his watch.

"It's 6.10 now so we're on time," He stated, addressing his team.

"Who's it from, Garcia?" Morgan asked, arms folded across his chest, brow furrowed.

"Well, that's the strange, strange thing…It was sent from my own account. But I only just got it. It must have been set up on a timer to send at this specific point, "And check out this link at the bottom of the email."

Garcia clicked the link and they were directed to a page with a large black box and nothing else right in the centre.

"So, it's going to be a video feed, most likely live. Yet when I trace the source – brace yourselves for a Freaky Friday-style twist – it is supposedly coming from this vey computer!"

She looked around wide-eyed at her colleagues, but none of them shared her shock or enthusiasm as they looked at one another with blank stares.

"Ugh, normos," she sighed and proceeded to spell it out for them, "Basically I am sending this feed from my computer, but obviously _I'm_ not, someone else is. It just looks like I am. And there's no sign of hacking. So…there has been some very clever, complicated, Garcia-level hacking brilliance that I am ashamed to say I can't trace."

"Well, I guess we wait then. This mystery-hacker said nothing about contacting us, they're just gonna show us something," Prentiss reasoned, though she had a distinct feeling that something wasn't right.

"Yes, and they won't be monitoring us, so it doesn't really matter that the whole team isn't present," Hotch said, doubt in his eyes. He realised how contrived it sounded even as he was saying it.

"Alright guys, anyone else sincerely creeped out?" Morgan interjected, cutting to the chase.

"_Thank_ you!" Garcia said loudly, "I knew you'd get the weird vibe too, my chocolate Adonis."

"It's 6.14," Hotch said, "Garcia are you going to record this?"

"On it, boss," Garcia's hands flew to the keyboard as she worked her magic. The tension in the small office was palpable as the four agents stared in anticipation at the blank video feed on every screen in the room. As soon as the digital clock showed 6.15 the video feed sprung to life and they were all suddenly enthralled and horrified with what they saw.

_Two legs were the only things in shot; two long, thin legs clad in smart black trousers kneeling on floor. The legs had black converse trainers at the bottom with flashes of colourful but mismatched socks showing in the gap between the trousers and the shoes .These were the clearly the legs of Spencer Reid. There was duct tape wound tightly around his ankles and he wasn't moving. The camera panned up agonisingly slowly to reveal Reid's whole body. His hands were bound behind him with tape and there was yet more tape wound round his torso. There was a leather strap around his neck securing him to what looked like a radiator and forcing him to lean forward in an uncomfortable position. There was a strip of duct tape over his mouth and he was straining against his many bonds to try and look at what the camera person was doing. He was making small pained noises and his eyes had even darker rings around them than normal. He'd been crying._

"_Shhh shh shh," came the voice from the man pointing the camera, "This'll all be over soon."_

_Reid tried twisting round so he could get a better view of his captor but the more he moved the more the strap cut into his neck so he ceased his struggling._

"_FBI agents? I trust you are watching this from your offices?" the man said, his voice calm and steady. At the mention of 'FBI agents', the bound man on the floor grew still and his breathing deeper. He was now frozen, listening to the words of the man with the camera._

"_As you know, I don't like FBI agents. You don't care who you hurt. Do you?" he quickly moved towards his captive and shoved the video camera in his face so that every flicker of emotion was captured. Reid looked right into the lens; his eyes were filled with fear and desperation. The man slapped him lightly, once, twice, "Huh? No, you FBI agents are all the same, so it's time someone taught you what it's like to get hurt. An eye for an eye?"_

_The assailant's voice was growing more and more agitated as his calm, measured tone slipped and he was unable to supress his emotions. He was angry. He stopped speaking and only his heavy breathing could be heard._

"_Mppppphmmm mrrrhmmmm mmmpphhh!" Reid yelled urgently into his gag but there was no understanding his muffled words. He was looking at something out of shot, something the camera man was holding, with terror in his eyes. Suddenly the thing he was looking at was lowered into shot; a long, serrated carving knife._

_Reid was crying futilely now, tears slipping from his large brown eyes. The knife was brought up to his face and traced lightly around his left eye. He tried jerking his head away but the strap around his throat had him completely restrained._

"_No, no, no…don't resist it," his captor said gently. Reid stopped squirming, squeezed his eyes shut and moaned softly into the gag. The knife point pressed slightly into the ridge of his left cheek bone below the eye socket. It kept pressing until the skin turned white from the pressure and the skin broke. It was only a tiny nick but a small trickle of blood ran down his face where it dripped of his chin and onto the carpeted floor. Reid gasped in pain and his eyes shot open so he was staring apparently up into the eyes of his kidnapper, silently pleading. _

"_I'm not going to hurt you. I'm better than you, I'm not going to stoop to your level," the man said and the camera moved up and away from Reid so it was looking down at him from standing height, "But I want you FBI agents to know that unless you make up for what you did to me, I might not be so nice next time round. For now though, I'm going to treat this one like the _dog _we all know he is."_

_He swiftly kicked Reid in the stomach. Unable to defend himself from the sudden blow, Reid coughed, winded, and whimpered in pain. He couldn't even lower his head to hide the tears that were falling freely from his eyes and mingling with the blood from the cut on his pale cheek. The camera zoomed in on Reid's face and captured every last tortured look of pain in detail._

And with that the video feed went dead. A stunned silence filled Garcia's office; no one could quite comprehend what they had just seen. Garcia's sob broke the silence, followed closely by Morgan.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled, unable to put his frustration, fear, anger and shock into anything but profanity.

"Garcia, I'm guessing there is no way you could trace that then?" Hotch asked quietly, but the fury was apparent in his voice.

"No, sir, it was coming from this computer…I couldn't – I can't do anything," the technical analyst cried and she stared at the blank video, unable to tear her eyes away.

"Hotch, what do we do?" Morgan asked, the only thing he could do was to turn to his superior.

"New case. Abduction, false imprisonment, torture. We need to come up with a profile. Someone needs to get JJ here as soon as she can make it," Hotch barked orders, his minds springing into action, "We'll find him guys, don't worry."

No one felt comforted by this. They all felt helpless. Yet they knew they had to act immediately in order to rescue their friend and colleague. Prentiss had remained silent since seeing the live video stream. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth she would be sick or break out in uncontrollable sobs or wailing. When Reid has been abducted by Tobias Hankel she barely knew the guy, yet she sensed his endangerment terrified the rest of the team. He was the child, the baby, the innocent of the group and none of them could stand to see him suffer. It only took Emily Prentiss a few weeks of working with the young genius to see why everyone felt this way. That was why when the two of them had been taken hostage by the cult group she had put herself forward for being the FBI agent; she knew that whatever torture they could inflict on her could never compare to the torture she would suffer if she saw them hurting Reid. And now he was kidnapped again and he was being tortured. He was scared and alone and in danger and there was nothing Prentiss nor the rest of the team could do and that hurt her so much. She walked in a daze back to her desk in the bullpen and just stood and stared at Reid's desk, as if any minute now he would awkwardly walk over and start rambling on about something none of them found interesting, wildly gesticulating and a great big smile on his youthful face. Prentiss laughed at the thought and in the exact same moment, tears spilled from her eyes and she wept in despair.

Hotch saw Prentiss standing, almost catatonic, over at her desk. Her shoulders shook gently as she cried. He wasted no time in walking up to her and gently folding her in an embrace. He knew it was inappropriate behaviour in the work place but he was damned if he was going to let her suffer alone. They both knew there was something between them lately and Hotch didn't plan on beating around the bush; he knew he could comfort her and he was going to.

"What if we don't find him?" Prentiss asked, her voice thick from the tears.

"We will," replied Hotch simply.

"With Hankel…we were lucky," Prentiss' voice cracked mid-sentence.

"We are going to find him," her superior answered with such certainty, Prentiss felt a little comforted. Hotch gently stroked her smooth, dark hair, soothing her. The pair of them closed their eyes and leaned on each other, peaceful and still.

Across the bullpen, Morgan and Garcia broke their own embrace, one that was more about friendship than intimacy. Garcia blew her nose loudly as Morgan put his arm round her shoulders. They both looked at their boss and their colleague, taking in the bizarre sight that all at once seemed strange but also made more sense than they could ever have imagined.

"Reid will be baffled by that," Garcia smiled sadly, resting her head on her friend's shoulder.

"Yeah, baby doll, he will. He will."

**Chapter 5**

Douglas lowered the camera and stared down at Reid. His heart was pounding. He wasn't even sure if the other FBI agents had been watching the video, yet he was still filled with adrenaline after the broadcast. He would finally get justice for what that FBI agent scum had done years ago… No matter if they had been watching the video feed or not, he would get his justice, what he was owed. _An eye for an eye_, he heard himself say and he smiled at what he had come up with on the spot.

Looking down at the boy on the floor he felt a slight twinge of pity; the young man was whimpering quietly and crying, sounding like a wounded animal. There was a small cut on his face and his eyes were squeezed shut tightly.

"How did you do that, huh?" Douglas muttered under his breath as he stared at the cut on Reid's face, the blood dripping… "My wife used to be clumsy too."

He knelt down and ran a finger over the cut, wiping away some of the blood. The man merely sat still as a statue, trembling ever so slightly. Douglas didn't know why the boy was so scared; he hadn't done anything to him! He sighed and began stroking his soft hair gently.

"I used to do this for my daughter when she had night terrors, it would help her get to sleep," he whispered, knowing this would soothe the young man, just as it had his daughter. However instead of drifting into a peaceful slumber, they boys eye's shot open and he squealed and looked right up at Douglas, fixing him with a distressed scare. Douglas yanked his hand away at the sudden movement. He'd only been trying to comfort this emotionally unstable kid and he had reacted as if he'd hit him! God, that was so typical of _FBI agents_, they would just take and take and take and do anything they want, regardless of the consequences, or who they would hurt.

"Typical!" he spat in Reid's face and yanked his hair sharply. The boy yelped in pain but didn't move away so Douglas slapped him, hard. Yet the boy just remained motionless, as if he was daring Douglas to continue, do more! So Douglas wrapped a hand around the thin, milky white throat that was bared so blithely in front of him. The younger man's eyes widened in fear and he made strange strangled noises… Douglas let go after a few seconds and looked at the collar around the boy's neck. He was obviously a _dog_, he was wearing a collar for Christ's sake! This made Douglas giggle to himself; he had a little FBI agent pet dog! This would show the FBI, they thought they were so powerful and intelligent, but here was a so-called genius behaving like a dog, right here in his house!

Douglas mulled this over for a few minutes more and then realised what he was going to do. He got up, leaving the dog tied to the radiator (his rightful place!) and fetched a blanket from a cupboard, carrying it down to the cold basement. Once there he arranged it in the corner to look like a dog basket. He smirked to himself as he grabbed an old dog water bowl, filled it up and set it down next to the make-shift basket. Perfect.

Back upstairs the FBI agent was twisting and turning where he kneeled, trying to make an apparent escape, to no avail of course. He would only choke himself on his own collar. Douglas strode over and unbuckled the leather collar. Reid slumped forward, groaning in pain.

"Get up," Douglas commanded, nudging him with his foot. When the younger man didn't respond, Douglas started kicking his shoulder. Now he looked up, except he looked confused and helpless, "I said, get up!"

Reid struggled a bit to stand but only ended up falling again so he was lying on his side, just staring up at Douglas.

"Jesus, do I have to do everything myself?" he shouted, causing the boy to flinch and cry some more. Douglas snorted, "Some FBI agent you are…I thought you were s'posed to be a genius?"

He grabbed Reid around the waist and began hauling his skinny ass down to the basement; the FBI dog didn't resist.

"Now, this is where the pets sleep! More accurately, where the _dogs _sleep!" Douglas threw the kid to the floor, in the dog basket. He curled up into a ball and lay, shoulders shaking, with his face tucked away.

Douglas got an idea that would further taunt the other FBI scum as he stared down at this pitiful excuse for a man. He ran to get his old Polaroid camera from his bureau upstairs in his bedroom and gleefully jogged back down the stairs of the basement. He snapped a single shot of the dog. He would send it right away, first class, so it would reach them by tomorrow morning! Laughing at his own ingenuity, he walked back up the stairs, calling down to Reid before he locked the door.

"Good dog!"


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm glad people are enjoying this story and I hope you all enjoy the next few chapters…**

**I realise that I left Rossi out of the BAU team for the last few chapters…accidental of course, Rossi is great, I just got caught up in the other team members! I shall now try to clumsily write him into the rest of the story, so sorry if he feels a little shoe-horned in. Now back to the story: Reid's still a damsel in distress and things are hotting up for the team, especially Hotch and Prentiss! By which I mean sexual things ** ** Enjoy!**

**Chapter 6**

Hotch put his head in his hands and massaged his temples; the team had stayed working all through the night and it showed. All night long they had gone over and over the video of Reid and the faceless unsub, analysing anything they could glean from what was shown on the screen. They had come up with a fairly decent profile though, even without their resident genius. He prompted his team to go over some of the more important points they had learned.

They knew he was clever but irrational; he had managed to kidnap an incredibly intelligent profiler without leaving a trace but he was clearly unstable and very angry. He also had a fixation with "FBI agents" as he had mentioned them numerous times. Obviously he felt that he had been wronged by an FBI agent in the past and he was now displacing that anger onto Reid, and indeed the whole team. He clearly thought he was better than people in the FBI and the way that he degraded Reid by calling him a dog and putting a collar on him showed a slightly sadistic and egotistical streak. Overall, he was one –

"Sick, sick puppy," Garcia squeaked, tears shining in her eyes as she looked up at a screen capture of the video that was on the board in the conference room.

"And soon he's gonna be one screwed puppy. Once we find him, he is gonna fry for this," Morgan said, teeth clenched and the hand balling up into a fist. Despite the current situation, Garcia allowed herself a little smile; she loved it when Morgan got physical.

"I think we need more coffee," Prentiss said with a sigh as she rose from her desk and made her way to the kitchen. She hadn't heard Hotch get up and follow her but she didn't jump when she heard his soft voice behind her.

"How are you doing?" he said, the question laced with concern.

"About the same as everyone; tired, exhausted, worried… It doesn't feel right that we're all here without him," She replied, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. No matter what she did she just couldn't get Reid's face out of her mind, his expressive eyes so filled with fear.

"He'd be able to solve this in minutes," Hotch said, and though it pained him, he smiled at Prentiss because he knew it would lift her.

Prentiss returned his smile with a shy one of her own, then set about making the coffee. Hotch came to stand beside her and he began to help her, doing what was needed without saying a word. Is this what our mornings would be like, Prentiss wondered, if we were together? She couldn't imagine a man in her kitchen, helping her, keeping her company; she'd been alone for so long, meaningless one night stands being her only outlet for intimacy. And they meant nothing. She had started to think she was unlovable, incompatible, not made for a life of love or marriage or happiness. Then she had realised that this stable, loyal, _powerful_ man whom she worked with was just like her. He never spoke about his private life and, since Hayley, Prentiss suspected that he didn't give love a thought. His life was based on facts and cases and evidence; love was none of these things, it was flimsy and breakable. But when he had returned Prentiss' gaze she knew that he felt it too. There was something strong between them that felt real. Prentiss couldn't imagine a man in her kitchen; but she could imagine Hotch there.

Hotch started retrieving mugs from a cupboard and the clinking of china woke Prentiss from her thoughts.

"Can you grab me Reid's mug?" she said without thinking and when Hotch turned to look at her, she became flustered and started babbling, "It's stupid I know, I just wanted – to feel close, I guess to him, I'm sorry – "

"It's not stupid. I completely understand," Hotch said truthfully. His earnestness almost brought tears to Prentiss' eyes; he was so good and honest and he understood her. She silently cursed herself that these feelings were becoming all-consuming as her team were working on a case to retrieve their friend from the clutches of a mad man. She felt guilty for not devoting all her thoughts to Reid.

"God, my timing _sucks_," she muttered under her breath.

"I can't find his mug," Hotch said scanning the mugs for Reid's distinctive mug among the rows of plain ones in the cupboard.

"Huh, that's weird, he so precious about it, he always has to clean it and put it away right after he uses it…" Prentiss said, genuinely puzzled.

"Did you check his desk, I thought I saw one on their…"

Prentiss didn't even wait to hear the end of Hotch's sentence, she rushed out to the bullpen and right over to Reid's desk. He _always_ put his mug away, like the way he always called if he was going to take the day off; and of course he hadn't done that yesterday… He was abducted from the BAU! In no other circumstance would he neglect his little ritual, she was almost certain of it. Sure enough, when she got to his desk, she saw the empty, dirty coffee mug on the table. Reid's favourite mug was a birthday present from JJ one year and it had "Kiss Me I'm A Genius!" written on it. It was unmistakeable. And here it was. Prentiss picked it up and sniffed the dregs at the bottom, instantly recognizing the slight faint tinge of something other than coffee. Reid probably hadn't noticed; his love of coffee would have made him glug it down, weird smell or not.

"Hotch! Hotch!" Prentiss called, and sure enough he came running in. Morgan and Garcia both poked their head out of the conference room and tentatively wandered over to Prentiss, "His coffee – he was abducted from here and I think he was drugged! Can we get this coffee analysed for anything?"

The BAU team sprang into action, Morgan flying to Reid's desk, trying to pin point any other clues that might have been left behind; Garcia grabbed the mug from Prentiss' hands and teetered out of the room towards the lab in her bright pink heels; Hotch merely stared at Prentiss, his eyes glowing with pride. He could have kissed her right there in front of everyone. She had never looked so beautiful, so fierce and determined, adamant on rescuing her team member. She's just like me, Hotch thought as his dark eyes burned into her identical eyes.

Just the David Rossi came strolling into the bullpen, breaking any romantic tension instantly.

"What'd I miss?" he asked jokingly, "I tell you, I would not have complained if that holiday stretched on for another 2 weeks…"

"Reid has been kidnapped," Hotch stated simply.

"Of course he has," Rossi said, not missing a beat, "What can I do?"

**Chapter 7 **

Time seemed to drag by with implausible gradualness. Reid had been unable to stop his brilliant mind from counting the seconds, minutes, hours, as he lay in the dark. It was annoying and tortuous of course, but it gave him some comfort that the drugs had fully left his system and his brain was functioning at its usual level. He was trying to prepare himself for whatever this unsub was going to throw at him; he figured if he could get inside this guy's mind, he might be able to talk him into untying him, letting him go, talk to his team, anything. Reid deduced that the way the Douglas was devolving meant that he would also be less sure of himself, therefore more open to suggestion.

Reid sighed and for the hundredth time he shifted his weight onto his other side so his limbs didn't burn with muscle cramp. He'd learnt that by the 2nd hour he'd been down in the basement. By the 8th hour he'd learnt that even by shifting his weight periodically, he would still get cramp at some point.

There was an unmistakable clicking of a lock in the basement door above him and Reid froze. A door opening. Heavy, deliberate footsteps. He was alone no more.

"Ah good, you're awake. I didn't know geniuses were so lazy," Douglas said mockingly, but Reid realised with a flash of hope that his captor was no longer in the furious mood he had been previously. He was going to see what Douglas would do if he didn't respond or do anything, so he merely lay where he was.

"Let's get you up then shall we?" Douglas said cheerily, but instead of dragging Reid or trying to make him get up by himself, he knelt down and sliced through the tape on Reid's ankles with his pen knife. Reid was unable to supress a sigh of relief as he felt his feet come free; he wiggled them around, the movement feeling better than he could have expected. Douglas grabbed under one of his arms and pulled him to his feet. Reid was unsteady at first but he soon worked out the tension in his ankles and was walking obediently up the stairs in front of Douglas. He was steered towards the kitchen and sat down in the same seat at the previous day.

"Food? You must be hungry, you barely touched your cereal yesterday!" Reid gave no indication that he'd even heard the man, he merely stared down at the table.

"A sandwich, maybe…? I could make a casserole maybe? What would you like?" Douglas was looking expectantly down at the younger man, but still no response, not even eye contact. Reid was scared to even look up at Douglas, in case his plan was back firing and the man was growing angry again. He jumped in surprise as Douglas lunged for his head; the tape was ripped from his lips once more, causing Reid to exclaim and break his vow of silence. At least he hadn't been hit.

"No what would you like?" Douglas asked, slowly, deliberately, as if talking to a petulant child.

"Sandwich!" Reid blurted out, almost involuntarily. The truth was, his stomach was growling at him and he was desperate for something to eat, even if it meant being fed by a madman.

"Good, Ok," Douglas said, clearly pleased as he went about preparing a simple baloney sandwich, "I'll be damned if a guest in my house goes hungry!"

Reid could have laughed; this man had kept Reid locked in his basement all night and he was talking about hospitality? It would have been funny, were it not very, very disconcerting.

"Of course, the last time an FBI agent was a guest in my house," Douglas began, causing Reid to inwardly groan, "he took advantage of my good nature and made a fool out of me. Just took what he wanted, and I was left…I was left…"

As the unstable man trailed off, Reid wondered if the last FBI agent he'd had in his house as a guest was in the same position he was right now…

"What did he do?" Reid asked and though his voice was hoarse and his throat was dry, he spoke with a conviction that reached Douglas.

"My wife," was the reply. Douglas swirled round and flew to Reid's side, "But don't you get any ideas! I will kill you! I will kill you."

Reid was shocked to see tears spilling from Douglas' eyes. Everything made sense now. Douglas was seeking revenge for a man stealing his wife. It would explain his desire to degrade and hurt Reid, another FBI agent, and it would also explain the episodical behaviour or one minute torturing Reid and the next treating him like a welcomed guest; this man was torn between revenge fantasies and an overwhelming loneliness that was created when his wife left. Reid heavily suspected something had recently acted as a stressor and had caused Douglas to seek his revenge. He decided to go out on a limb.

"When did they get married, Mr Douglas?"

Douglas collapsed into the chair next to Reid and put his head in his hands. He was sobbing, "Three months ago."

"Around the time you were hired as a janitor at the BAU…" Reid muttered under his breath. Deciding to take his chances as Douglas seemed to be answering compliantly, Reid pressed on, "And how long have you been planning on kidnapping me?"

A sharp smack to the face told Reid that he had pushed his luck.

"How dare you accuse me of plotting something like that! I am a good honest man, better than any FBI agent, including you, you little runt! Come into my home and accuse me of that!" Douglas was bellowing at Reid now, inches from his face. His eyes were wild and furious.

"Here, eat your damn sandwich," he said as he tossed the snack down in front of Reid and stormed out the room. Though terrified, Reid was also acutely aware of his hunger, so he began eating the sandwich from the table, making a mental note never to tell anyone about this. When he was finished, he quietly stood up and went to the sink, desperate for water. He awkwardly turned the cold tap with his chin and drank the water greedily. Bent over the sink, he was completely unaware of Douglas approaching behind him. He didn't even hear Douglas gently unhooking a frying pan from the wall. But he definitely noticed Douglas bringing the pan down heavily upon his head. He was unconscious before he touched the floor.

**Chapter 8**

The whole team at the BAU was working on Reid's case, so when a courier dropped off a small innocuous-looking envelope, none of them even looked up from their desks. They were all thinking of Reid. Except Prentiss who was thinking of Hotch and Hotch who was thinking of Prentiss. However they both tried to push these thoughts aside and concentrate on finding their youngest member. Rossi had gotten on the case admirably and was soon bringing his own unique spin to the mix. A fresh mind sorely helped as everyone else was succumbing to sluggish fatigue by now.

"Ok, I think everyone needs to maybe take a break. Go home, take a nap, shower," Hotch said to the rest of his team as they worked, "To be honest, there's not much we can do until we hear from the unsub again and everyone needs to clear their heads."

The results of Reid's coffee mug had come back and showed that the coffee was laced with a large amount of rohypnol.

"Enough to make a genius turn into a slurring, stumbling mess," Morgan had said, summing up the abduction succinctly. Since then the team had managed to create a detailed profile of this guy which they planned to release to the press once JJ was back. There was no telling when this would be however; Disneyland could be difficult to leave, especially with a very young child in tow. Without their media liaison's opinion, they would not notify the press or do anything that might put Reid in more danger.

Morgan and Garcia both left the offices uncharacteristically quietly, too tired and emotionally drained to even consider cracking jokes. Rossi went to get himself lunch, no doubt something greasy from a local deli. The rest of the people working in the bullpen had gone for their lunch, Hotch and Prentiss were the only two to remain; they were completely alone.

"You should go and get some rest," Hotch said to Prentiss, leaning down close to her and she sat at her desk, still working.

"I'll rest when Reid is safe with us," she replied stubbornly.

"Emily…" Hotch breathed into her ear. Hairs on the back of her neck stood up but she didn't move.

"You should sleep," Hotch continued, close enough that Prentiss could feel his breath on her cheek, but she still would not turn to look at him.

"I don't want to be alone," she breathed, and it was so quiet Hotch wasn't sure he'd even heard it. But he would have said what he was going to say regardless.

"No one said anything about you being alone."

That was all it took. She rose from her desk in one fluid movement and Hotch wrapped his arms around her. Safe. Warm. Her hands against his chest. She leaned into his neck and savoured the feeling of wholeness. Slowly, like a sun coaxing a lily to open its flowers, Hotch lifted Prentiss' face to his.

It was a slow, deep kiss. It was two jigsaw puzzle pieces sliding together with the ease of two things meant to be. They both stopped breathing. They didn't need to.

It was perfect until it was interrupted.

"Uhh excuse me, I have some mail here... are you guys the FBI agents here?"

Prentiss and Hotch both looked at the source of the interruption, breaking their embrace. It was one of the mail guys.

"Yeah, some courier dropped it off a few hours ago but no one came to pick it up, so I came to find who it belonged to…" He clearly had no idea what he had just stepped into. This earth-shattering moment he had interrupted did not even factor into his day.

"Yes, that's us," Hotch snapped his professional mask slipping back into place. He snatched the envelope from the young man and tore it open. It was addresses to the "FBI agents"; it was from the unsub. Prentiss looked over his shoulder to see what it was.

Hotch gently pulled a Polaroid picture from the envelope and turned it over. It was Reid, tied up and gagged and lying in a dog basket. The unsub had sloppily scrawled "FBI agent rolls over like a dog". It was crude but it got his point across most effectively. Hotch and Prentiss looked at one another, a gaze deep with concern.

"Uhh you guys might want to get a janitor in here, looks like he only cleaned like one spot last night," the mail guy apparently hadn't left yet as he yelled this across the bullpen, once again interrupting a poignant moment. Hotch and Prentiss had no idea that what he'd just said would point them to Reid and the unsub if only they looked a bit closer…


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow thanks for the nice reviews! I will keep writing as fast as I possibly can, but not so fast that the story becomes a jumbled blur. Hope people enjoy the Hotch/Prentiss story line because Reid whump is great, sure, but romance always wins…**

**Lauren **

**Chapter 9**

It was the third time Reid had woken up in Peter Douglas' house and it was fair to say it wasn't getting any easier. He was faintly surprised to find himself sitting upright on a pretty comfortable couch, though the throbbing in the back of his head certainly diminished any comfort he felt. Frying pan to the head, that's a new one, the genius noted dryly. Reid looked around him, taking in his new situation; his hands were tied in front of him now which was a genuine relief, although there was a heavy duty chain looped between his bound wrists and attached to his similarly bound ankles by a fairly short length. Standing up was definitely off the table. Douglas was nowhere to be seen and the house was silent. Reid wondered if he had had to leave for some reason, maybe even for work; work where he would be in close proximity with Reid's friends and co-workers. This made Reid angry and he swore under his breath. As if waiting for such an outburst, Douglas announced his presence, making Reid jump.

"Awake, are we?" he asked, humour completely absence from him cold voice, "Never in my life have I had such a rude guest. You and I still have a lot to sort out, don't we?"

He walked in front of Reid, who was shocked to see the video camera back in his hands; another chance to communicate with his team! He kept quiet so Douglas would have no immediate reason to silence him this time round.

"Your fellow FBI agents are going to do me a favour," Douglas stated bluntly, "They're going to get a restraining order lifted for me. I need to see her again, they will tell me where she is….and once she sees what I can do to an FBI agent she won't want him!"

"What are you going to do to me?" the words slipped out before Reid had a chance to gauge what his captor's reaction might be. Douglas merely chuckled.

"It's not your turn to ask questions," he said in a mock-accusing tone, "It's mine. Tell me, Dr Spencer Reid, if you could choose any other of your FBI agents to take your place now, who would you choose?"

The familiarity of the situation and the eerie déja-vu of the question sent Reid back to that cabin in the graveyard where a poor abused boy used to shoot up…it sent him back to the wooden chair and the burning fish guts and the needle in his arm and the gun…_God's will_…

He felt a sudden slap and he opened his eyes to stare up at Douglas. He hadn't even realised he'd shut them. He was trembling.

"Well don't worry! No one is gonna take your place; you're on your own. I didn't know snakes could feel such loyalty for other snakes," Douglas huffed, a little shocked by the younger man's extreme reaction. Reid had been feeling calm about this next video but now he was frightened and his head felt blurry. In the back of his mind he was still there with Tobias and Charles and Raphael.

Much to Reid's dismay, a new strip of tape was applied to him mouth and smoothed down with loving precision.

"You don't have anything to say to them," Douglas muttered as Reid fixed him with the best glare he could manage.

Douglas didn't have a large knife like last time; he only had a box of matched. Reid hoped it was for candles. He knew he was wrong.

The camera was on and pointed in Reid's face once more.

"Hello, FBI agents. I imagine that you are working hard to recover your little lost snake so you will undoubtedly catch this live feed. If not than the boy dies. Either way I'm will get the justice I am owed. However if you are watching this, I want two things; I want any restraining orders taken out against me lifted, and I want my wife's address. Well, ex-wife. But not for long. If you don't get me these things, I will kill this one."

The camera zoomed in on Reid's face. He only stared back in what he hoped was a strong, brave look. He wanted the team to know he was OK. Douglas continued as he closed the gap between himself and Reid.

"To show you that I am serious…" he began but trailed off. With his non camera hand, he yanked the collar of Reid's shirt down a little, exposing the pale collar bone on the young doctor. Reid clenched his teeth, knowing pain was coming. Douglas lit a match and brought it up to Reid's skin. He held it close to him for a second before quickly holding it to the exposed flesh. Reid grunted in pain and involuntary tears betrayed his fake stoicism. Small plumes of smoke rose from the tiny but angry red burn Douglas left on his otherwise flawless skin. The process was repeated seven times, at which point Douglas decided they must have got the picture. Reid was gritting his teeth in pain but he didn't make a sound. He wouldn't. He could take it.

"If you don't get me what I want, the next time I do that, he will be doused in lighter fluid. You have 2 hours."

And with that he flipped the camera shut and they were left on their own once more.

Reid started to yell into the gag, starting up at Douglas imploringly.

"What, you want to talk to me?" Douglas asked tauntingly, "I don't owe you any favours."

Reid ignored the rejection and continued to make as much noise as he could, he was determined to get Douglas to take the gag off. He had something important to tell him,

"Oh fine!" Douglas yelled and ripped the tape from Reid's face in one swift motion, "What?"

Reid panted slightly but he could hardly speak fast enough, "You didn't tell them your name! How are they supposed to remove a restraining order if they don't know who you are? How can they find your ex-wife if they don't know who _you_ are?"

Douglas froze, defeat and anger lighting up his eyes. He punched Reid square in the face. Blood poured from the young man's nostrils but he was happy; Douglas would have to contact the BAU to give them his information and then Garcia would be able to trace it and they would find him! It was clinging to false hope really and Reid's logical mind screamed at him not to get his hopes up; yet he had faith that Douglas' obsession with his ex-wife would drive him to desperate measures.

"What do I do? What do I do?" Douglas paced back and forth before Reid, his head clutched in his hands, feverishly pulling at his hair.

"You have to ring them, ring my team. Tell them your name and they'll do the rest, I promise," Reid said, trying to keep the hope from lifting his voice too much.

"So they can track the call here? No way," Douglas snorted. Reid opened his mouth to protest, "No, don't try and lie to me. I used to work as a technical analyst, I know my stuff. I wasn't always a janitor."

"Well, ring them and then leave! Leave before they get here! They have a jet, they can't teleport, you'll have plenty of time," Reid argued urgently.

"Do it for her. Prove to her how much you love her," it was a low blow but Reid was counting on it.

A whole array of emotions flitted across Douglas' face; acceptance was the last one. Reid smiled inwardly. Douglas looked at him begrudgingly.

"What's the number?"

**Sorry for the cliff hanger. I would continue if I didn't have to sleep, I really would. The next chapter will be up soon, I promise! Stay tuned; Reid is not quite home yet and Hotch is still hoping he can get Prentiss home… ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 10**

As soon as Morgan, Garcia and Rossi returned from their breaks looking decidedly more well-rested (and in Rossi's case, more well-fed!), Hotch wasted no time in showing them the picture of Reid they had received from the unsub. It was disturbing to see but it only spurred the team on more.

"So we know Reid was taken from here, most likely in the middle of the night so no one else was around," Morgan said, trying to order his thoughts and override the seething anger that always threatened to cloud his judgement when one of his friends was in trouble.

"I checked the records from that night; Reid was the only person here, no one else was scheduled to work," Garcia interjected, looking up from her laptop which she was furiously typing away on.

"So it wasn't someone who works here then?" Rossi asked.

"Well, no, sweetcheeks, it must have been. They managed to get inside my office and onto my computer at some point. They must have needed a key," replied Garcia, eyes darting back and forth across her screen, "And they must have extensive experience in technical work to be _that_ good, Garcia-good, if you will. But I cross-referenced our database of employees with people who have worked with computers but nothing came up."

"Nothing?" Hotch asked, his voice stern and strained. He couldn't believe they had no leads; Reid was abducted on their own turf, yet there was nothing pointing to the location of their friend.

Prentiss looked up when Hotch spoke. They had sat very deliberately at opposite ends of the table in the conference room. Something had snapped between them, the dynamic had shifted; they couldn't stand next to each other without an overwhelming desire to reach out and touch. Prentiss hadn't even looked at Hotch since they sat down because she knew once she did she wouldn't be able to look away.

But now she found herself staring right into his eyes when she'd heard his voice. It was like a magnetic pull and neither could look away. She was thinking about their kiss, which had been so cruelly interrupted, and she knew he was too. That damn mail guy, she thought. Nothing kills the mood like someone discussing the whereabouts of a janitor…

Prentiss gasped out loud. Something clicked into place in her mind and she ran out of the conference room without saying a word.

"Was it something I said?" Rossi joked and before the team had the chance to go and see what had spooked Prentiss, she was back in the room quick as a flash.

"What is it?" Hotch asked, professionalism dousing his desire.

"Garcia, who's the janitor here?" Prentiss asked, ignoring everyone's looks of slight concern.

"Uhh…" Garcia's fingers danced over the keyboard and within seconds she had her answer, "Well, the day-time janitor on weekdays is one Brian Spoke, weekends is Alan Forn-Smith, weekends at night is Mary Shaw – "

"Who is the night-time janitor during the week?" Prentiss pressed urgently.

"Give me a minute, kitten, there's something not quite…" Garcia trailed off, "…right. There is no night-time janitor on record!"

"What makes you think the janitor did it?" Morgan asked, puzzle knitting his dark brows together.

"Well, have you seen the bullpen this morning? It's filthy," Prentiss said, and she gestured with her arms as if the point she was trying to get across was obvious.

"You are going to have to elaborate, Prentiss," Rossi said, smiling slightly.

"Only a small patch of the bullpen was cleaned that night! There must have been a janitor working that night, but for some reason he stopped right in the middle," Hotch spoke before Prentiss had the chance to. Naturally he was on the same wavelength as his raven-haired colleague.

"Either he had something to do with the abduction or he saw something and ran," Prentiss deduced.

"So why are his records gone? Why wasn't he supposed to be working that night?" Morgan interjected, arms folded as he looked around each of his co-workers for a reaction.

"He would need some super-fly hacking skills to erase his records from my entire database," Garcia began, "The same kind of skills a person would need to hack into my computers in order to broadcast a live video feed from said computer. Bingo."

"We need to find someone who knows the schedules of all the janitors," Rossi said as he stood up, moving with the purpose of a man on a mission. Just at that moment, the phone in the conference room rang out, the shrill noise cutting through everyone's thoughts. Hotch naturally answered.

"BAU Offices, Quantico, Aaron Hotchner speaking?" he said in a monotonous, well-versed manner.

"Is that the FBI agent Aaron Hotchner?" a familiar voice asked in a deep, rigid voice. Hotch's eyes widened as he recognised the voice as that of Reid's captor. He didn't waste a second in pressing the speakerphone button, an action that immediately prompted Garcia to begin recording and attempting to trace the call. The whole team waited with bated breath.

"This is FBI agent Aaron Hotchner speaking, who is this?" Hotch asked keeping his voice steady and calm.

"You know who I am. And I know you'll be tracing this call by now," the voice said, full of venomous disdain, "But you will give me time before you try and find me, or else this snake dies!"

The man's voice was rising with anger again. He was very unstable, far more likely to lash out, which was unfortunate for Reid.

"By 'snake', do you mean Special Agent Dr Reid?" Hotch asked evenly.

"You know who I mean; dog, snake, whatever he is, whatever you ALL are!" the man shouted, "You are all the same; you are all filthy, cheating dogs and manipulating, cowardly snakes! Gah!"

The whole team flinched and stared at the phone speakers where the irate yells were coming from.

"What do you want?" Rossi asked, deciding to take the lead. He planned on pressuring the unsub for answers; he was devolving so quickly, his unstable state made him more likely to slip up and give them answers. Garcia tapped away furiously on her laptop, tracing the call as fast as she could.

"I am going to give you my name. Then you are going to _remove any restraining orders on my records and tell me where my wife lives,_" the unsub hissed angrily, "If you do this, you will find your missing snake at my house."

"Let us speak to Reid," Rossi demanded simply, "Give us proof of life, or there is no deal."

"He's alive," the unsub said, his projected mask of control wavering slightly.

"We need proof. Or no deal," Rossi had a frim and authoritative voice and his methods were working. Everyone in the conference room secretly thanked their stars for his presence.

The was a muffled sound on the other end of the line as it was apparent the unsub covered the mouth piece and gave instructions to his hostage.

"I am fine. Give him what he wants," Reid's voice was hoarse and he sounded very weak as he repeated what the unsub had instructed him to say, but the team had never been happier to hear him speak,

"Proof enough for you?" the unsub's voice boomed out of the speakers once more.

"Tell us your name," Rossi said loudly.

"Found him!" Garcia squealed loudly and punched the air with her fists. She had traced the call. They knew where the unsub was.

"What was that?" the unsub asked angrily. The team all stared at Garcia in disbelief; if this jeopardised the bargain they would be furious. The technical analyst blushed a deep crimson and hid her face behind her blonde locks.

"Nothing. You name, give us your name and we will give you what you want," Rossi said, his eyes fixed on Garcia in a stern stare.

"Peter Douglas," came the measured reply. Garcia immediately found his records and she took in the information as the puzzle came together. Peter Douglas had been a computer programmer for one of the world's foremost computer search engines. He had quit his job years earlier and had been doing small independent jobs since then. Quitting his job coincided with when his wife had filed for a divorce, and weeks later taken out a restraining order against Douglas. Three months earlier, his wife had remarried and he had moved to Quantico. This must have been when he took the job as a janitor at the BAU, though he had erased any sign of this from his own files. Garcia garnered all of this within seconds and immediately blurted out what the unsub wanted to hear.

"142 Applewood Drive, Virginia, 344600! That's where your ex-wife lives and I have erased the restraining order from you social security records!" and with that the line went dead as the unsub hung up.

"Garcia, you traced the call; where is he?" Hotch demanded.

"Well, I traced the call to a small town that is a 4 hour drive from here…it's not the house that Peter Douglas is registered as living in currently so I'm guessing he has Reid at his old house where he used to live with his wife, as it is still registered under her name!" Garcia shrieked excitedly as she told the team where they could find their missing genius, "I have put the address into the GPS systems in the cars. You are all good to go."

And with that the team began their preparations to get Reid back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 11**

Douglas slammed the phone down and looked at Reid with pure disgust. Reid merely fidgeted and looked up expectantly.

"They'll be on their way now... I'll be long gone though, I'm going to get my wife back," Douglas said in an almost reverent tone. All his energy for the past few months had been building up to this point…he was so close, he eyes glowed with greed.

"What are you going to do with me?" Reid asked tentatively, praying that Douglas would agree to leave him here for his team to find. It seemed his prayers were going to be answered.

"I'm not taking you with me, if that's what you are wondering," Douglas said, "I'll leave you here as a little present for your fellow dogs to find…"

He walked over to Reid and started unlocking the chain that connected his wrists and ankles. He grabbed under his arms and began hauling him back down to the basement, muttering under his breath the whole time about snakes and dogs and FBI agents. Reid listened to him belittling him and his career choice and his beloved team members and he felt an indignant anger boiling up through his stomach and chest and up to his mouth. He couldn't stop the anger once it reached his brain.

"You can't blame all your problems on something else. So, one FBI agent screwed you over, that doesn't say anything about the rest of us," Reid couldn't see how this man could possibly avoid the logic he was presenting.

"It says everything about the rest of you!" Douglas screamed and threw Reid to the ground. Reid immediately sat up and looked definitely up at Douglas; someone once told Reid he was strong and he couldn't be broken and he felt that strength surge up inside his heart now.

"You don't know anything! You are just a delusional, self-pitying man on a power trip!" Reid shouted back up at his captor, "You think you're better than me, than any FBI agent, but you need to treat me like an animal in order to feel control, you have to talk about us as if we are dogs and snakes; you're pathetic!"

Douglas kicked Reid in the stomach. He just wanted him to be quiet; this man's words were cutting into him like a knife or a lover's rejection. Yet Reid didn't cower submissively like a dog might, he raised himself back up to stare Douglas right in the eyes and continued.

"I am an FBI agent and I spend my life putting scum like you in jail. I help people, save their lives. What do _you_ do?" Reid asked, smiling and feeling like he was 15 feet tall. It didn't matter that Douglas had kidnapped and tortured him; he was just a weak, desperate man. Reid thought of his team and how brave and good they were. His pride for them lit up his eyes and Douglas saw this light and cowered from it. He was gripping his head in his hands and staring down at Reid in horror.

Before his eyes, Reid transformed into the man who had stolen his wife. That man was strong and confident too, he was everything Douglas wasn't. He could see his wife and the way she looked at her new lover; he could see the way she looked at him too, glancing at him with disgust, like he was a waste of human life. And he was. He no longer felt in control; the man on the floor in front of him was dangerous and powerful. Douglas had to stop him staring, he had to get those judging eyes from his face.

Reid beheld the damage he had done; he had unravelled all of Douglas' confidence with the power of his words and profiling. He knew they would all be proud; Gideon, Rossi, Hotch, all of the father-figures he looked up to. He was thinking about this when Douglas aimed a kick at his head. He was momentarily stunned and he couldn't fully comprehend what Douglas was doing but he felt himself being dragged and pulled and restrained.

Douglas had to work quickly; his prisoner was no longer a prisoner. He was dangerous and fiercely intelligent. If Douglas didn't get him out of the way, Reid would surely find a way to get inside his head again and make him feel sick like before. When he had finished, the FBI agent was trussed up and shaking his head lightly, no doubt recovering quickly; Douglas could do nothing to stop him. The only way was if he killed this man. He left Reid on the floor and hurried over to the tap in the corner of his basement. He turned it on full blast and ran up the stairs without one last look at the man on the floor. He didn't stop until he was in his car with a map in hand. He was going to find his wife, thought he felt like nothing could make him feel good again. He was a waste of human life and he knew it. Everyone knew it. As he stepped on the gas, there was only one thing left for him to do.

Reid returned to his senses, though the room was still spinning a little. He was lying on his back looking up at the ceiling. His hands were bound behind him and his ankles, knees and elbows felt uncomfortably restricted as if they were tightly wrapped in tape also. There was an uncomfortable pressure on Reid's chest and as he looked down he saw why; there was a large chunk of concrete on his chest, held there with plentiful layers of tape. He sighed into the tape that was wrapped around his mouth; it was uncomfortable but it wasn't going to kill him. He could wait until the team got there, he only wished he wouldn't be found in such a helpless position. After the way he handled Douglas he felt like a super hero, not a damsel in distress.

Something wet slowly seeped into Reid's shoes and he jumped in shock. The rush of blood he could here roaring in his ears hadn't subsided as he expected it would. It took him a few seconds to realise that the roaring sound in his ears wasn't his own blood pounding; it was the powerful gush of water coming from a tap in the corner of the basement. The floor of the room was very slowly but irrevocably filling with water. And the water was slowly creeping up to Reid and into his clothes. And he had no way of stopping it and no way of escaping it. He let out a long and loud but muffled scream for help. No one came. He was on his own.

As the water tugged at his hair and chilled his bones, he prayed that his team would find him before he succumbed to a watery fate…


	6. Chapter 6

**Woop woop I'm glad to hear people are enjoying this story…my first attempt sprung from boredom and a love for this show and the characters but your encouragement is really nice! If there are any plot holes or slightly far-fetched things in this last instalment…well that's too bad. Hope you all enjoy reading this, much love,**

**Lauren x **

**Chapter 12**

The drive to Peter Douglas' house was fraught and tense and filled with the kind of energy that could only be felt when someone's life was in danger. Morgan and Rossi drove in one jeep, tearing down the freeway so fast they were almost flying, whilst Hotch and Prentiss rode in the other. They had barely spoken since Quauntico; what was there to say? They had to find Reid, that was their priority and neither of them were unprofessional enough to let think about anything other than finding Reid as quickly as they could. In the office they were both buzzing with the electricity of desire but now, as they drove to discover their friend's fate, they were powered by adrenaline and fear.

It was still there though, this pull between them. They seemed to be moving in sync; it was as if they were planets that had finally aligned in the night's sky and the eclipse they created was beautiful and mysterious and made all those who saw it consumed with awe.

When they had left the offices Garcia had gone right about alerting the authorities who were local to Douglas' ex-wife and she and her new husband had been moved to a safe house already. The new husband was indeed an FBI agent, as Douglas has claimed, and he was respected by his peers for the many cases he had helped to solve and the many lives he had saved. There was nothing bad or snake-like about him. Peter Douglas had not been located yet and this unnerved the authorities, but they were prepared for him.

Almost three hours later, Morgan and Rossi arrived at their destination, have shaved a considerable amount of time off their journey due to slightly reckless driving. Hotch and Prentiss weren't there yet, but the two agents weren't going to wait around for their colleagues. They had to move.

Guns held high in front of them, Kevlar vests strapped on and fierce determination in their eyes, Morgan and Rossi certainly looked the parts but under their pretences they were both terrified. They would never be able to live with themselves if Reid wasn't absolutely fine. Nobody could imagine a world without their sparkling genius…it was a terrible thought.

Morgan wasted no time at all in kicking the front door and yelling "FBI!" as he scanned the front room. He and Rossi instantly recognized the couch and the radiator from the first video they had seen of Reid's abduction. They checked out all the rooms of the first floor, calling Reid's name as they searched. Nothing. Morgan was about to storm upstairs when he heard Rossi calling him.

"Morgan! Hey, Morgan, through here!"

Morgan sprinted as fast as he could to where he'd heard his older colleague's voice. Had he found Reid? When he found Rossi, we was just standing there, stock still, head tilted, listening intently.

"Ya hear that?" he asked Morgan. Morgan froze and concentrated on the silence of the house; or what he thought was silence. There was the faint sound of rushing water.

"We near a river?" Morgan asked.

"No," was Rossi's reply and dread overwhelmed both men as they couldn't help but picture their friend floating lifelessly underwater, dead…

Morgan scanned his surroundings; they were standing in a hall by the stairs. The first thing Morgan noted was the awkwardly placed ceiling-high cupboard. The second thing he noted was the scuff marks near the feet of the cupboard, showing it had been pushed there. Recently.

"There's a door behind this thing!" he exclaimed and grabbed one side of the giant cupboard, pushing it away from the wall, "Help me move it, man!"

The two men made short work of moving the clunky furniture and sure enough there was a door there! Morgan second-guessed that it would be locked so he kicked it down with almost super human strength. He and Rossi bolted down the stairs and saw what they had been dreading; a few feet of water filled the bottom of the basement, gushing ever still from a rusty old tap in the corner. Below the surface they saw the outline of a body.

Hotch and Prentiss pulled into the driveway and left the car next to Morgan and Rossi's identical ride.

They jumped out and sprinted to the open front door, and upon entering they heard what they feared the most…

"He's not breathing,"

Morgan jumped into the water without hesitation. It really was very shallow, but a smart statistic-spouting genius once told him that it only took a couple of inches of water for someone to drown and be lost forever. He bent down to his still friend who was completely submerged with an eerie blue glow cast on his face from the water. There was a slab of concrete weighing him down.

"Oh no no no no," Morgan groaned as he thought about what a horrible sensation it must be to be trapped underneath the water like that…a terrible way to die…

Rossi was beside him in a second, and wordlessly they lifted Reid's motionless body from the water, grunting from the weight of the concrete. Rossi ripped the concrete off Reid's chest, while Morgan supported his unconscious friend and they both proceeded to lift their colleague up the stairs to somewhere they could revive their friend. They laid him down on the soft carpet of the living room, instantly soaking it, water turning the light red surface a blood red crimson.

Morgan began performing CPR on Reid's motionless body, pumping his chest with forceful, desperate motions.

"He's not breathing," Rossi said, frozen to the spot.

Hotch and Prentiss saw the terrible sight upon entering the living room of Peter Douglas' house. Morgan was pressing down on Reid's chest with the timed beats of CPR, murmuring "Come on, come on, come ON," as he did. Rossi was just standing there, covering his eyes, the picture of a broken man.

Hotch laid a gentle hand on Prentiss' shoulder, pulling her out of her horrified stare.

"Emily, call an ambulance," he said softly looking deep in her eyes, absorbing some of the sorrow that was brewing in them, relieving some of her pain. She went to the nearest phone and began dialling, whilst Hotch knelt on the other side of Reid and began trying to remove the duct tape from his mouth to aid the CPR. Reid was still not moving.

Morgan rested his head against Reid's chest, trying to listen for a faint flutter, anything. Beneath his friend's sodden clothes he could feel a bony, fragile chest and he realised with crushing sorrow that Reid just hadn't been strong enough,

That made Morgan's shock when the body began to buck and convulse on the floor even more intense.

"Oh my god, Reid!" he yelled, astounded.

Hotch finally succeeded in getting the tape off Reid's mouth and was immediately greeted by a fountain of water that the genius was coughing up from his lungs. Reid coughed and spluttered and heaved but it didn't matter; he was alive.

Reid saw black spots in his front of his eyes and his chest felt heavy and full of water. He coughed and coughed, expelling water from his lungs and gulping in the sweet fresh air. He was cold and everything hurt, but it didn't matter because he was staring up into the faces of his friends. Prentiss, Rossi, Hotch and Morgan were all beaming down at him, waiting for him to speak.

"You found me," he croaked, trying to smile. He had never been so grateful.

Prentiss leaned down to his side, a pair of scissors in hand. He could hear an ambulance siren somewhere in the distance.

"Here, hold still," Prentiss said softly. Everything sounded to Reid like he was still underwater. Prentiss began gently cutting through the soggy duct tape on Reid's ankles, his knees, torso, elbows and wrists; it was glorious to be free. He didn't even notice Hotch's fatherly hand on his shoulder or Rossi's soothing words of comfort. He passed out, happy, in the presence of his team.

**Chapter 13**

A steady bleep was all Prentiss could hear as she sat keeping vigil by Reid's bed in the hospital. Once the doctors had looked him over thoroughly and declared that he was going to be OK. Miraculously he had not suffered from brain damage from his time in the water and his dehydration would subside after they had pumped him full of IV fluid. The only visible marks Douglas had left were a bloody nose, a slightly busted lip, a small cut on his cheek bone from the knife and a cluster of small burns on his shoulder that were just visible under the collar of his hospital gown. No one had talked to Reid yet, so they could not be sure of his mental state, but they all knew that he would get though it with the team by his side.

Morgan and Rossi had headed back up to Quantico, delivering the fantastic news to Garcia, leaving Hotch and Prentiss alone at the hospital. Hotch had been waiting for this moment all day.

He wordlessly sat beside Prentiss, and for a few moments of comfortable silence they looked down at the serene sleeping face of Reid.

"You were brilliant," Hotch said quietly, almost a whisper.

"Aaron, I – " Prentiss began, her voice full of uncertainty.

"No, it's Ok, Emily, you don't have to say anything," Hotch took her hand in his and gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. She closed her eyes, relaxed and comforted by Hotch's touch.

"What now?" she breathed, gazing into those dark eyes that matched her own so perfectly. Hotch responded with a kiss, like the one at the BAU offices; it was slow yet passionate, her rhythm matching his exactly. Prentiss felt the stirrings of something more inside her, and she wished they were anywhere else but here.

If they were at her apartment, or his house, she would whisper in his ear, a soft "I want you" and he would respond with a touch, gently tracing a finger down her cheek, lightly over her long neck and lower, lower until he heard her give a soft moan. She would pull him closer and together they would lie down on the bed, never breaking eye contact and he unbuttons her shirt and slides it slowly off her shoulders. She would do the same for him, not stopping until her hands reach his belt and she unbuckles it and his pants come away and she sees how much he wants her. Things start to move faster and they are both naked; she is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, pale and so soft, so soft he can't help but touch every inch of her, taste every inch of her. He is strong but gentle, everything she wants, and when he holds her in his arms she feels like nothing can touch her. He would finally enter her and they would both cry out with pleasure and the yearning that they have both felt for so long disappears and is replaced by an intense burst of heat between them. The whole in her heart is filled and he finds his missing piece. They are so in sync, they would both feel so near and they would hold each other tightly and go deeper and harder and faster until they both climax at the same time. They would not let go; they would breathe deeply and hold each other and whisper "I love you I love you I love you" and they would fall asleep in each other's arms.

Prentiss kissed Hotch more deeply and imagined all of this. It was only a few minutes but it felt like a whole lifetime.

"What – what are you _doing_?" Reid croaked groggily and Prentiss and Hotch immediately broke away from each other and looked guiltily at one another and Reid.

"Reid, you're awake!" Hotch said, trying to move on swiftly

"Where you kissing just then?" he asked, puzzled, as his eyes darted back and forth between his friends.

"Umm…" Hotch was rarely caught off guard, but when he was, he was as speechless as a naughty teenager.

"Yes," Prentiss said simply, "What about it?"

"Oh, errr, nothing," Reid said, now feeling like the awkward one as Hotch laughed at Prentiss' bluntness, "I just didn't know… Hey, is Douglas' ex-wife ok? Did he fine her?"

Grateful for the subject change, Hotch leaned forward and prepared to give Reid the shocking ending of this ordeal.

"Douglas' ex-wife is fine, so is her new husband," Reid sighed with relief when he heard this, "But we found Peter Douglas' body a few hours ago. He drove off a bridge, Reid, he's dead."

"What?" confusion cast a dim haze over Reid's features as he struggled to comprehend.

"He was found in his car. He drowned. He was clutch a photo of his ex-wife and…the authorities aren't sure if it was suicide or an accident." Prentiss said this and stared into Reid's brown eyes, trying to tell what he was thinking. There were tears in his eyes and they were darting from side to side, as if he was trying to make sense of the news.

"It's my fault…I pushed him and pushed him," Reid said, tearfully, "I was angry and I profiled him and he lost it. He killed himself because of me."

"He tried to kill you as well though Reid. He was an emotionally unstable man," Hotch said in a comforting, low voice, "If it wasn't you, it would have been something else, Reid. Don't blame yourself. You were brilliant."

Reid looked into the earnest eyes of his boss and nodded sadly.

"He always felt overshadowed. Like he couldn't compare to others and his wife leaving him only made it worse," Reid couldn't help defending the man who had almost killed him, Prentiss noted sadly. He was always trying to see the good in people, just like he had with Tobias Hankel.

"Reid, Douglas' wife didn't just leave him for an FBI agent. He beat her, and her daughter. He was an abusive husband, always blaming others for his faults," Prentiss said softly, taking Reid's trembling hands in her. He had shut his eyes and leaned his head back on his pillow. His hair was so short now compared to how it used to be, but it still splayed out over his pillow and around his head like a halo.

"Are you feeling Ok, Reid?" Hotch asked delicately, the way he asked making it clear that he wasn't asking about Reid's physical injuries.

Reid opened his eyes and stared straight ahead of him, "I thought I was going to die or get tortured or never see my friends again, or my mom…"

He trailed off, his gaze becoming unfocused. Prentiss and Hotch shared a worried glance.

"…but I got out. I survived AGAIN, and I was strong. I didn't break," he turned to look at his friends who were anxiously leaning closer to hear his words, "You saved me too. All of you… I feel safe knowing you're there. And I know I am strong. I didn't know that after Hankel. I thought I survived by a fluke, a miracle. But now I know I was strong. And I have the best team…friends…"

And with that, he drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Prentiss and Hotch stayed with him and were there when he woke.

**Epilogue**

_One year later…_

Morgan sat at his desk, cracking his knuckles and looking at a text on his phone. _Had a gr8 time last nite…how about round 2 2nite? Xx_ . He chuckled to himself and flipped his phone shut. He heard Prentiss coming out of Hotch's office, laughing and talking in a quiet voice to her boss.

She sauntered over to her desk, winking at Morgan as she did.

"Jeez, you guys have gotta be over the honey moon period by now?" Morgan said, jokingly making a disgusted face.

"I'll come out of the honeymoon period when he stops being so _hot_, like seriously HOT," Prentiss said with a dazzling smile and a vixen lick of her lips. She had never been happier.

"…So basically, he realises that it was his son who had travelled back in time and fathered himself, with his mother! But technically, that level of incest would mess his genes up a lot, and he would probably never even be capable of inventing a time machine in the first place! Ridiculous, right?" Reid's voice could be heard across the bullpen and he excitedly followed Garcia and JJ, babbling about his new sci-fi obsession with a child-like excitement in his face. He dropped his satchel down on his desk, ignoring Morgan's raised eye brow.

"It's the latest Serbian time travel film," JJ offered as an explanation, "in case you were wondering."

"I can honestly say I wasn't," Morgan said, laughing at his younger male colleague.

"It's stunning, we should all go see it. Anyone free tonight?" Reid asked, his voice rising hopefully as he looked around at his friend's faces.

"I'm in, brainy-pants," Garcia chirped, mussing Reid's hair, "Any chance to bitch about the latest thing on the internet forums…"

"Alright, pretty boy, I'll come," Morgan sighed, feigning reluctance, "Place'd better be packed with smart PYT's though, man…"

"We'll come too, Hotch got a babysitter for Jack tonight anyway," Prentiss said, just as Hotch approached.

"What's that?" he asked, and when he saw Reid's huge smile, he said, "Oh, Emily, you didn't…"

"Sorry baby, but I am frankly really interested in a…Serbian film…" Prentiss looked around for help, scratching her head with a wedding ring-adorned hand, " about…travelling?"

"Time travel!" Reid interjected, holding up a hand as if eagerly answering a question in class.

"Yeah, I'll come!" JJ said happily as she saw Rossi walking over from the corner of her eye, "And you'll come along, right Rossi?"

Rossi raised his head and looked at everyone with raised eyebrows, "What?"

"That's a yes," Laughed JJ.

Spencer Reid happily looked around at the faces of all his friends, his safety net, his family. It had been 6 years since Tobias Hankel and 1 year since Peter Douglas, and Reid felt fine.

**The End! I hope you liked this veeeeeery mushy ending, I sure like writing it. If anyone has any suggestions for Criminal Minds stories that they'd like to see written by me, let me know! **

**Lauren x **


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